208. Order And Randomness

a truth to chill
cold to the bone
on valleys of a hill
by rustling leaves, alone

born we are, with tools
a block of stone in hand
harnessed by book of rules
to sculpt self, understand

in attempts to make, adorn
on a stone open to one and all
forces incongruent, fall upon
where rules fail, appall

a world of great order
created by chipping strong
works on a dangerous border
flipping all right to wrong

as one chips away every edge
that juts below satisfaction
our words roll off the pledge
stone back again, flat to sensation

in an order, imagined loud
we escape too far from real
in excess refining, be proud
deal fluid spirit for material

our minds of human quality
appear to work best asynchronous
matching randomness of reality
by laws rich that seem monotonous


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